


In the End

by volnaib



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Sauron and Eonwe cameo, coarse language, spelling mistakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 15:05:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5095118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volnaib/pseuds/volnaib
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The very end of Dagor Dagorath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the End

The earth has finally stopped shaking, not being troubled by the moves of the giant Powers anymore. The smoke was gradually fading, though it did not matter much since both Sun and Moon were now gone - forever, most probably. Ground was soaked with blood, both red and obsidian-black, great caverns and chasms - filled with blood, tears and sweat, and not just in metaphorical sense - crossed it like the giant scars, the same scars that crossed faces and bodies of those who lied now here and there, motionless, quiet, peaceful at last.

The Great Battle was over now, the Dark Enemy destroyed, but all those who could still stand on their feet were glancing around with helpless looks on their faces. The Beautiful, Undying Valinor was broken along with its Oppressor, and the miracle of which the Mankind dreamed (and, consequently, the Fair Folk) has never happened.

The world around them wasn’t healing, Aulë and his Dwarves were out of sight, smoke still was suffocating, weariness filled hröar of Eruhíni, Valar did not seem to know what to do now, and fëar of Children started to yield to grief and despair.

Immortal Land lied down in agony.

Suddenly, as some of the Children started to shed tears in their sorrow, a tall figure walked among them, her hair glowing like a sky of the very first night Elves found themselves at the shores of Cuiviénen. “Elbereth,” they whispered. “Elentári.” She was silent, moving slowly among the many torn bodies still lying there, still not treated as their customs demanded.

She did not say a word, looking upon all the corrupted land that was within and beyond eyesight of the most sharp-sighted Elf. She did not kindle a new Light, nor did she sing a song of beauty and hope, nor did she shed a tear over that frozen chaos around. There was no sound of crying Nienna, either, as the Eldar noticed - apparently she was far from here. As Varda walked further, it was harder and harder to tell what was happening, since the smoke not only stopped fading, but also became even blacker than before. The last thing those Eruhíni who were the closest to Elbereth saw was that she halted, and then the darkness enveloped everything.

And it is believed that no ears of Children of Eru heard any of the words which were said there then, nor did they see anything.

“Varda,” a quiet whisper came from what seemed to be a giant rock, lying motionless in a pool of dark blood. Near an enormous hammer lied, its handle broken in half.

“I am here,” was the answer, which sounded sharp and far from Elven vision of beauty, - in Valarin.

“I…” it was hard for him to speak. He tried to make a move with his hand, to ask her to get near him; she descended on her knees beside.

“Closer,” he asked. There was some noise from behind Varda, but she did not acknowledge it. It is not known if she was aware of his intention or not, and if she was, why would she let it happen; she did not tell anyone, as no one did ask her afterwards. Some things are better to be left unexplained.

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and lowered her head, almost touching his cheek with her nose, so she could hear what he was going to say.

Instead of saying something he put all of his strength, which now was as large as of a butterfly, into a slight move, reached her chin with his hand and pulled down, kissing her.

“Wanted to do this a while ago,” he mouthed, and opened his eyes again, and his stare now was filled again with the light gone since the times he was cast out from amongst Valar. He made an attempt to smile.

“Varda, you unwhelped bitch!” was a sudden cry from behind her back, full of anguish and anger. A wretched creature struggled to escape the grip of Eönwë, all in vain; a hröa as weak as its fëa belonged to none other than a Maia known before as Sauron. Eönwë just shook him a little to silence with a low “Shhh”, and the dreadful Dark Lord of Mordor was overwhelmed with weariness, arms of Manwë’s Heir being the only reason he was still standing.

“Mairon,” Melkor whispered, as his smile turned to being replaced with an expression of pain. “Hush, child. It is over now.” He looked at the Lady of the Stars again, her face unreadable. “I am going to meet with Father now.”

“Yes, you are,” was her quiet answer. “May your journey be swift.”

She leaned to kiss his forehead, and then it was over.

Then the three of them walked in silence, Mairon clinging onto Eönwë’s neck to prevent himself from falling to the ground, his head bowed low. There was much to be done and discussed now, though this story remained untold for a long while.

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking of it as of another “comic that I’ll draw when I’m a good artist”, but that castle of glass suddenly materialized as a text.  
> Inspiration for various things came from (among others) Blind Guardian, Phobs, and also some fandom fluctuations present at the time of writing.  
> First version published: April 6, 2013.


End file.
